


Candle-Ends

by Wordwitch



Series: The Hunting Of The Snark [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Gen, POV Hermione Granger, POV Neville Longbottom, POV Trevor the Toad, Sentinel/Guide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2020-01-24 12:08:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 18,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18571171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wordwitch/pseuds/Wordwitch
Summary: "His form is ungainly—his intellect small—"(So the Bellman would often remark)"But his courage is perfect! And that, after all,Is the thing that one needs with a Snark."





	1. The Landing

Hermione was pleased, the next morning, to find Neville and Trevor coming down at the same time as she did. He smiled in delight at her, and she took advantage of the momentarily empty Common Room to give him a hug, which after a startled moment he returned. She tugged him over to the corner they had used the night before, asking him about what he had heard.

"I heard everything right all the way till you went to sleep!" he replied proudly. "And the guys, too, but I am going to have a problem-" he looked around and cocked his ears, then whispered, "Mr Weasley snores like nothing I have ever heard!"

Hermione snorted and clapped her hands over her mouth. 

"And then I woke up when I heard you wake up, and I heard all the fifth years getting up, and it was too noisy so Trevor and I got up which was great! I didn't fall out of bed or anything!"

"Marvelous! " she cheered. "Is it still too noisy?"

"No,  everything settled down when I turned on the shower," he beamed.

The clatter of upper classes down the stairs resumed, and both of them looked warily at the tense third years. Hermione tapped her ear, and Neville gave a tiny sharp nod. She dropped her eyes and reached for a Sense of the students, while Neville cocked his head and scooped Trevor down into his hands.

They were miserable, some of them almost sick with it. Some were defiant  - the Weasley twins especially simply radiated stubborn endurance, which was _not_ like them in the least. Neville turned back to her and whispered "Potions? P-professor Snape?"

"This could be a problem," Hermione muttered back, as her dorm-mates and Seamus and Dean made a simultaneous appearance. 

"You move fast," commented Brown, looking at the two of them rising from the couch.

"Yes, I had an idea about that," she answered blithely as the boys joined them. "Were any of you achy after running around all day yesterday?" Re-directing sly comments was second nature by the time she had hit infants' classes.

"Hah, by the time I got to breakfast," Seamus laughed, Dean nodding beside him and Neville casting up his eyes in painful agreement. The girls rocked back on their heels, their eyes bright.

"Well, it is obviously exercise, right? So the very first thing my Sense-i taught me was to stretch first."

The boys immediately dropped their packs on the couch, and Neville put Trevor on its arm. He watched them with bright eyes, casually catching some flying insect no one had noticed. 

Brown looked at Patil, who shrugged  and set down her own bag. Dunbar shrugged and left.

As Hermione walked them through a runner's set of stretches, Weasely and Potter dashed down the stairs and out the portrait hole, Potter glancing back in curiosity. 

"That should do it," Hermione stated, shaking out her arms with the others copying her. "Ready to run downstairs?"

"Aye, Captain," Seamus growled, grinning, and she groaned as they all took off.

The trip to the Great Hall was smoother this morning. Hermione corrected Neville's posture so he wouldn't fall headfirst down the stairs, and they took them at a trot, passing Dunbar and actually arriving just after Potter and Weasely. The boys looked for permission to Neville, and explained about Conditioning. 

"I want in," declared Patil. "I shall strain something on all these stairs, and become a cripple, and have to send for a broom to ride to classes, which is forbidden." She nodded sharply to Brown, who sighed. 

"I don't like exercise," she whined comedically, then stated "but Parvati's right. If you already know physical conditioning and are already teaching it, I would also like to join in."

Hermione was taken aback; she was used to dealing with adults, and this - training Neville  - was getting away from her. She turned to him in dismayed query. He smiled back at her in reassurance. 

Dean leaned across the table and dropped his voice so they had to lean closer. 

"This is actually all for Longbottom. He is getting the training because he needs it, and we are involved because we are helping. If you want to be involved, you have to understand that and help too."

"Why do you need training?" Patil asked Neville plainly. Neville glanced at Hermione, gathering his courage, and responded, "Have you ever heard of Sentinels?"

"Oh," nodded Brown, while Patil frowned and asked "What?"

They gave her the short version over the rest of breakfast, and headed out to the greenhouses. 

* * *

 

Neville was in absolute bliss. This was home. Plants and soils he was familiar with, and others he had never met. The focused heat of sun through glass, and the humidity of a well-watered greenhouse. Friends and possible allies around him, and his guide beside him, and the teacher speaking his own language, and  _no need to use his wand._ Miss Hermione asked him questions, and so did the others, and he gained points for Gryffindor, and he. felt.  _competent._

Miss Hermione poked him and grinned at him, and he realized he was standing perfectly stable. He breathed in delight. 

She whispered to him occasionally, having him feel the difference in the soil before they crumbled in the composted dragon's dung and afterwards, having him really identify levels of moisture, having him separate out the plants on their table by smell and then having him match the smell of plants at other tables to the smell of the person the plant was near.  _Then_ she had him find out which person was who by sound, and he slid over to Mr Potter and Mr Weasley's table and correctly identified which pot belonged to whom. Dean and Seamus grinned at him, Miss Hermione beamed, and Misses Brown and Patil raised their eyebrows, impressed. 

Mr Potter looked at him thoughtfully. Mr Weasley was dismissive, but Neville had been expecting that. Mr Weasley seemed dismissive of school as a whole, actually.

"All of us can learn to do this at a normal level," Miss Hermione hissed to their bench-mates. "It can only help when we get to Potions." So they were all sticking their fingers in everyone's pots, and sniffing them, and listening to the sounds people made shifting around on the floor. 

Trevor took off by himself after just a little bit, and Neville found he could listen to the toad's progress around the room, and hear when he found something to eat. This, now, this was great. Neville wasn't going to have to search for him; he would be able to go directly to where Trevor was. 

In the event, Trevor came back to the potting bench when people began putting things away,  and hopped onto his foot, and croaked  _nnehbell._ They all stared at him wide-eyed, and Neville scooped him up and looked him in the eyes.  _nehbell,_ he croaked,  _nnehbell, nnehbell._

"Trevor," he whispered back.

* * *

This was more like it, thought !rribrr. Nnehbell tasted happy, and the... place was comfortable, and there was good food in it. !rribrr looked up again. Yes, there was definitely a ceiling there, and yes, he could definitely see the sky through it. Wixen. What  _would_ they do next?

More tads had joined Nnehbell's knot, tasting of curiosity and reaching-to-like. Rrmyni, the hall-tad, maintained its protectiveness but was cautiously accepting the new tads. 

!rribrr was also cautious, but the adult in this ... place tasted of pleasure, and acceptance, and instruction. Its sounds were brisk and kind and without claws. !rribrr approved. 

It made up for the sharpness of the main cavern in the mountain, full of prey and predators and bitter, ugly scents among the delicious overall osmyrrah of food and happy youngsters. 

And Nnebell had understood him.

 


	2. The Hunting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You may seek it with thimbles—and seek it with care;  
> You may hunt it with forks and hope.

Terry-the-wizard was willing to introduce them to one of his prefects, but played the clown with it.

"Prefect Hilliard," he intoned, "I would like to introduce to you Trevor-the-Toad and his human Neville Longbottom. This is Hermione Granger, and Seamus Finnegan, and Dean Thomas. We all rode together on the Express. Lady and gentlemen and toad, this is Robert Hilliard, one of our fifth year prefects."

Thankfully Mr Hilliard seemed as amused as the boys, and shook hands all around, including tapping Trevor-the-Toad gently on his forefoot.

"How can I help you?" he asked, his intonation adding _where your own prefect cannot?_

Hermione showed him her note-parchments and explained her organizing dilemma. He frowned lightly, and twitched his lips.

"I don't think we actually have such a thing." He brought out his own bag, and showed them the tight scroll of his Note-parchment for his morning class, standing on end in the front pocket. "I just put them in the correct pile on my desk between classes." Hermione slumped a little, but Mr Hilliard shook his head, smiling encouragingly. "When do you have Charms?"

"Next!" she bounced, and he grinned back.

"Then talk to Professor Flitwick, and he will help you invent it."

The boys all grinned at her, and Neville patted her on the back. They thanked him, and chorused a farewell to Terry-the-wizard, and returned to the Gryffindor table for a much-needed lunch.

* * *

 

"Why," Seamus demanded, hastily swallowing his mouthful, "do you want to cart all the notes around at the same time?"

Miss Patil and Miss Brown inclined their heads in shared but polite curiosity. Miss Hermione blinked at them. 

"I don't want to go running back and forth from the library to the dorm each time I'm ready to study the next subject," she offered, which certainly made sense, "plus I'll need the earlier notes as we go on."

Neville and Dean and Miss Patil looked at each other in a kind of horrified realization, while Seamus and Miss Brown nodded.

"This is where a five-subject notebook would be useful," Miss Brown commented, and Seamus added "my notes aren't generally better than the textbook, so I didn't worry about it."

Miss Hermione eyed them all nervously and Neville suddenly understood. 

"We will be learning from you in this as well. I am beginning to hope any of us have something that you wish to learn!"

"It's lunch," stated Dean, wrenching the topic away, "what can we learn about taste?"

And they gleefully began comparing taste and texture. 

Trevor tried some pumpkin juice but preferred water. 

* * *

 

"Listen to the way the words sound," Miss Hermione said, and pointed at Miss Patil. 

 _"Wingardium Leviosa,"_ she uttered.

 _"Wingardium Leviosa,"_  Seamus stated.

 _"Wingardium Leviosa,"_  Miss Brown sang.

 _"Wingardium Leviosa,"_  Dean agreed. 

 _"Wingardium Leviosa,"_  Neville tried, held up his hand, and tried again. When he was confident with it, they tried the swish-and-flick until they all matched what Professor Flitwick had done.

"Now with magic," Miss Hermione said, rather grimly, and one of each pair tried it, followed by the other.

Behind them, next to the young ladies, Neville could hear Mr Weasley completely bollixing up Leviosa, and wallowing in his failure. Mr Potter sounded correct. 

Neville failed utterly, as expected, but Miss Hermione succeeded  - also as expected. She corrected the other young men's postures and had them try again, which worked, and passed her wand to Neville while she checked the young ladies.

Posture correct, motion correct, and a wand that wasn't fighting back: Neville succeeded on his second try.

* * *

 

The Wixen tads were more easily distinguished in this cavern than in the massive one where they ate, or in the growing-cave where all the life overwhelmed the odors of the Wixen. Here it was easy to tell that the two new members of Nnehbell's knot were dubious but willing, and that the other two members of its sleeping cave were holding themselves aloof. That the fox-headed one was unsure and angry, while the night-over-birchbark one was delight on top of sorrow and replete on top of long hunger. 

!rribrr cautiously hopped down and explored the room, passing near the adult - a definite predator but, like the owl, it did not see the tads as prey. There was a thin scent of lightning each time one of the tads waved its branch, and more when the feathers floated into the air. 

!rribrr made his way back to Nnehbell's stump about the time the lesson ended, and rode it back to the adult when the group swarmed him. Rrmyni sounded at the adult, showing him some of the contents of its pouch, and waving its arms about. 

The adult Wix smelled exactly like a crow getting ready to extract an insect from a tree-hollow. 

!rribrr settled down in amusement, and watched.


	3. The Bellman's Speech

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “... the Snark’s a peculiar creature, that won’t  
> Be caught in a commonplace way.  
> Do all that you know, and try all that you don’t:  
> Not a chance must be wasted to-day!"

Neville took Hermione's arm as they walked past the Potions Master in the hall, and as they went near different groups who had just come from the Potions class, so that she could sink into her Sense of those nearby, sorting them by maturity and by affiliation as she had been taught, and understand their relationships to the larger groups of teachers and students.

Hermione folded her arm around Neville's, so that he could safely search for mentions of the Potions Master's name and listen to the conversations that contained it.

She was startled and delighted at how quickly he was able to "piggyback" his sense of Smell onto Hearing, able to sort out those most freshly come from a Potions class from those who spent the most time in such classes, able to divide the Potions students from the Herbology students and those who dealt with Magical Creatures.

They laced together their talents swiftly, he able to identify a group and locate it for her, she able to analyze the emotional currents within it. And, far faster than she would ever have dared to guess, they were able to eavesdrop on the Slytherin Common Room itself.

Well. Neville eavesdropped, and told Hermione, and Hermione wrote it down in a column with her observations in a second column beside it, urging Neville to read it as she went, and to correct things.

When they lifted their eyes and nodded at each other grimly, sometime after History of Magic, Seamus startled them both by murmuring over Neville's shoulder "Got it figured out, then? Ready to share?"

Hermione looked wildly about as Neville gasped and clutched at Trevor, realizing that all of their yearmates were, in fact, sitting near them, even Weasley and Potter, looking up from whatever they had entertained themselves with while waiting, she suddenly understood, to find out what they were doing.

"Potions, right?" Dean asked, chocolate eyes glowing in his round caramel face.

Hermione nodded as she flicked her eyes to each one of them, her assessments and analysis dovetailing with the many books on personal and group interactions her Sense-i had assigned her to read (all for the better support of her Sentinel when she found her or him), and spun into a workable strategy.

She took a deep breath. "You have to trust that I know what I am talking about," she started, Neville's instant support a bulwark against Weasley's doubt and Dunbar's sad-eyed detachment. "Neville and I discovered this morning that there is a real issue with Potions Professor Snape, and we have been investigating all day."

Seamus and Dean nodded at each other, smug that they had known what had been going on.

"Investigating like you were talking about with Sentinels?" Brown clarified, and at their nod continued "What do we have to trust you about, then?"

"Life ..." Hermione started, then closed her mouth, and huffed to herself, choosing other words.

"When we talk to each other, when we do things together, you can think about how we do it in terms of _playing games_. Like, our houses, our dorms, are like _playing family_ , we have brothers and sisters and we have to get along with each other and we have Professor McGonagall as Mum and Headmaster Dumbledore as Great-Grampa.

"Or a class like Herbology is like _playing gardens_ , only more literally, we are growing things.

"Here at Hogwarts we are literally _playing school_ , we expect the teachers to present us with things they expect we will learn and use, we expect that we will get grades that tell us how we did at learning, we expect that if we put in the effort that they will put in the knowledge and that it will be fair."

" _Games People Play_ ," Dunbar nodded, "me mum was reading that all last year after me dad left."

Hermione nodded with her, grimacing in sympathy, and went on.

"Professor Snape is not _playing school_. He is _playing war_. He is the General of his House, and the Slytherins are his army and also his city, and he and they are at war with the rest of the school."

Weasley was turning a dangerous shade of red, but Potter shushed him with a gentle hand.

"What does that mean for us?" he asked quietly.

Hermione sighed again, and rubbed her face with her hands, dragging them through her hair for good measure. She knew it would make it stand straight up on one side. She _did not care._

"I was going to make a plan for me and Neville, and maybe one for us and the lads," she nodded at Dean and Seamus. "It would work better if it was all of us, and it would work better if we practiced and if we warned Professor McGonagall, but you have to understand."

She looked them each in the eyes.

"This is going to hurt."

Neville straightened, the sweetie. He trusted her to make sure it was worth it.

Potter and Dunbar straightened as well. Hermione forced herself to keep going and not show her surprise.

"Professor Snape takes points from every House except Slytherin, and he grades everyone harshly except Slytherins, and _he doesn't do it to teach us better_. He takes points to attack his enemies and to destroy them. He will take points from us if we go in without knowledge, if we go in without a plan, or if we go in with knowledge and with a plan. Points will be taken, grades will be bad, and we have to know that and accept it and put it aside. We will lose points in Potions. Everyone loses points in Potions. It is deliberately unfair, we will do better if we expect it to be unfair."

Brown nodded. "If you go out and you get caught in the rain, it's horrible. But if it is raining and you go out in it anyway, it's fine." Patil and Dunbar nodded, and Hermione nodded as well. Weasley squinted.

"Or if you see a piece of candy and you eat it and suddenly all your skin turns green you scream, but if the twins hand you a piece of candy and say 'Try this, it's for a prank,' and you eat it and turn green, it's just interesting."

Everyone turned and looked at him.

Seamus said, "Suddenly so much makes sense, but yeah, mate, that is it exactly."

Weasley smiled in pride for understanding, and his color went back to as normal as it got, and Hermione smiled in surprise that he got it. Everyone else was nodding, including Patil and Dunbar and Potter, and this might work.

"So alright. If we go in with no plan, Neville is going to end up in the Hospital Wing every week, and the rest of us will get there mmmaybe less often, but we will still be there. If we go in with a plan, we will get yelled at, and we will get bad grades, but I think we should be able at least to stay safe, and maybe even learn the subject."

Everyone was looking at her with narrowed eyes.

"So what is the plan?" Patil demanded.

"Well, we only just finished scouting the enemy, my plan is up for a lot of refinement."

Seamus snickered, his wide frog face going red in his amusement.

"Bones," Weasley demanded, "we can refine it."

"Play a different game."

Everyone sat back, thinking.

"I have this image of us filing in quietly with bright shining faces, sitting up straight in our chairs and smiling at our teacher, and saying 'yes, Professor Snape,' and 'no, Professor Snape,' and 'I don't know yet, Professor Snape,' and 'thank you, Professor Snape' while he gets angrier and angrier and deducts 200 points from Gryffindor for being - I don't know, robots or stupid or babies or something. It would be ridiculous."

She raised her eyebrows at them. "This is why I was considering warning Professor McGonagall first, and maybe the rest of the House. They all know how he is, and they all know what he does, and if we warn them ..."

"They won't get caught in the rain with no brolly," smirked Dunbar. "I think I like it. _BUT_ ," she added, "it will only work if we _do not_ get sarky. One whiff of real, audible disrespect and it all goes tits-up." She swiveled. "I am talking to _you_ , Weasley. We know your mind on the Slytherins. You sneer at the Professor, you so much as get a _tone_ in your voice, and we are all dead, do you hear me? I am not talking _figuratively_ neither, the man could poison us all and we would drop dead at different times. If we were _lucky_."

She turned back to Hermione. "Let's us ponder this, talk it over and sleep on it overnight, and see do we think we can or if we ought better go a different way. And chew over it at brekkers. Because this is something I know. As much as Snape hates everyone isn't Slytherin, he hates Gryffindors twenty times as much. He _loathes_ us. Whatever you heard wasn't near as bad as it really is. He will delight in the chance of _grinding our bones_."

Dunbar sat back in her chair, arms crossed over her skinny chest, and bobbed a sharp nod at Hermione. "Respect, Granger. You give me hope."

"Dinner," declared Weasley. "Thinking on an empty stomach is hard work." Hermione caught the odd look Potter cast him, but they all scattered to put away their things, and for the first time went down to dinner together, all nine first-years at once.


	4. The Toad’s Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...[I]t knows any friend it has met once before:  
> It never will look at a bribe ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only changed because I realized that parchment was not plant but animal.

Nnehbell and Rrmyni had gone Great-Swimming, and Nnehbell had held !rribrr in its hands to stay safe the while. !rribrr was glad that its pool-mates had stayed guard with him, and had discussed the Way-Song afterward, and had decided to swim their way together.

After a brief visit to the waterfall cavern for Nnehbell to splash its hands and head and to soak !rribrr as well, Nnehbell tucked !rribrr carefully into its outer skins and the entire flight of wixen went tumbling down the entire inside of the Mountain to what !rribrr had by now realized was an entire cavern just for eating. Rrmyni's chamber-mates gathered together with Nnehbell's chamber-mates around the near end of the cavern, and Nnehbell brought !rribrr back out into the air and placed him on the vast tree-trunk.

!rribrr sounded in startled pleasure.

The House-Elves had acknowledged that !rribrr would be present for scheduled meals, as together with the piles of food for wixen, also appeared what could only be described as a small raised pool, with a sturdy damp bank for him to sit on, and minnows swimming within, and several tasty species of insect flying above - and only above - the pool.

This was more like it.

!rribrr ate happily and at a rate more appropriate for a Toad, one minnow, and then watching the trunk around him for a short time, followed by a damsel-fly or three, and so forth. Well-moistened and secure in his food, !rribrr was better able to pay attention to the air-currents and the social groups than he had done last night, or even earlier today.

Rrmyni's chamber-mates had not gathered with it and Nnehbell before, so !rribrr was pleased to see that they settled in well, sounding around the whole group in what seemed to be a fine social bit of conversation. The group spiked with surprised delight each time !rribrr caught some food, and swirled with hope and despair and caution in between.

Rrmyni and its chamber-mates did not sound and eat at the same time. !rribrr began to wonder if this might be a sex-differentiating behavior cluster, but withheld judgement for further evidence: the night-over-birchbark tad did not sound and eat together either, even though it shared Nnehbell's sleeping chamber.

Neither did Nnehbell. !rribrr set his pattern-matching to observe/ remember/ correlate. 

A drift of bitterness and decay and rage reached him from the trunk filled with the oldest wixen, but it was brief, and by the time !rribrr was able to focus on them, they were engaged in social behavior among themselves. !rribrr watched them for a while regardless, and kept another eye on the comings-and-goings of wixen from the other trunks.

Thus he was aware when young wixen from the next trunk approached, two or three or four at a time, and Nnehbell and Rrmyni would arise and they would sound at each other the same way that those two and the JumpNow! three from the furthest trunk had sounded together the previous night. It was the same pattern, varied occasionally by them all turning to one or another of the tads still perched at the trunk, and bringing them into the pattern.

Once or twice they brought !rribrr into it, as had happened at the midday meal, and !rribrr carefully matched the behavior of the visiting tads: if they touched his forefoot, he would raise it and touch their finger, or if they ducked their heads, !rribrr would duck down as well.

Rrmyni would show all its teeth at such times, together with a strong scent-burst of pride-and-glee. !rribrr was glad to have his behavior confirmed, but more glad to be placed back on his pond.

After the Night-Meal and socializing, the knot of tads went back to the plotting they had been doing, ink-tracing on the leaves of ancient sheep skin, shifting their seats to discuss different things and then shifting again, until it seemed that they had a Way planned out. 

Then like an entire _school_ of minnows, they all shifted together into another Way, with everyone ink-tracing, and sharing slabs of bark-sheets, and only occasional soft soundings among them. And then shifted together _again_ into Displays, Rrmyni leading and correcting, always Nnehbell first but then the others as well, bringing the new tads further into Nnebell's school, into Nnebell's pool, into Nnebell's flight. 

!rribrr would have to choose: keep describing these young Wixen as though they were Toads or other water-kind, or accept that they were earth-and-air mammals, and stop using descriptions that related them to himself. 

His head pulsed a bit as he shifted toward more verbal uses. He gave up for the moment. He napped. 

 


	5. Hunting with forks and hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'You may seek it with thimbles—and seek it with care;  
> You may hunt it with forks and hope ...'

"Padma says Ravenclaw Tower has a whole bunch of tutoring books for the different classes," Patil stated, trying, it looked like, to put together a vegetable curry from the dishes available - verified when she hauled out a spice bottle from a pocket and doused the pile of rice and mushy peas and currants with it.

"We should ask for copies."

"You think they might share?" Dean was dubious, but game.

"Sure, why not?" asked Brown, eating daintily but quickly, unlike Weasley Minor - Hermione averted her eyes. "Wouldn't they be proud to have corrupted Lions into some Scholarly behavior?" 

Snickers answered her, and so Patil  - Parvati, she invited them to call her, and suddenly the whole year was on a first-name basis  - went with Hermione and Neville to speak with Terry-the-wizard and Padma Patil and Robert Hilliard.

Hilliard narrowed his eyes and then went up to the professors' table to speak with Professor Flitwick, who brought in Professor McGonagal. 

By the time everything was done, Weasley Major was floating a pile of workbooks and pamphlets into the Common Room and showing Hermione how to set the Tutoring link while the others dashed for their Potions kits.

"Oh, I used this'n in lessons at home," Fay stated excitedly. She tapped one of the drawings with a finger, then tapped her stainless steel knife, and took a practice carrot and began slicing. Sounds and colors emanated from the blade, and she changed her grip and her angle until the sound was a clear bell tone and the color was translucent blue. 

As one, the others breathed "Wicked" or "Brilliant" or (in Lavender's case) "Migosh", grabbed a copy of _Beginner's Guide To Ingredient Preparation_ , and started working their way through the knifework chapter. 

Hermione took a deep and hopeful breath.

* * *

 

As there was no Transfiguration class the next day, Miss Hermione put together a delegation to Professor McGonagal after breakfast, sending Miss Fay to the head table to get an appointment. 

Ronald joined them to round out the group: stupidest, smartest, calmest and angriest (only in Neville's own mind, as Miss Hermione would have a Look for him calling himself stupid). Miss Fay became their first Speaker.

"Professor, we come to let you know we'll be doin' a kind of Work-To-Rule in Potions, and it looks to might affect our House points more'n somewhat."

The Professor's eyebrows lifted slightly, and she folded her hands on her desk.

"Why, how, and who?" She sounded exactly like Gran during tea with Madam  MacMillan. Miss Fay glanced at Miss Hermione, who flicked her eyes at him and Ronald. 

"We understand that Professor Snape is very harsh on his students, and prefers that they learn outside of class and demonstrate their knowledge inside class."

Well. That was a different way to put it. 

"As a group, the Gryffindor first years are going to be very polite, very attentive, and very oblivious to provocations. We hope that in acting together, we will protect against any individual bearing the brunt of point loss or detention. 

"Of course, this means our class may well earn _more_ point loss and _more_ detention, but we intend, as a class, not to complain."

Ronald leaned forward. "The House is gonna suffer too, though, which is why we wanted to warn you, and maybe warn the House too. My brothers will go spare if they don't know what is going on."

"Undeniably." The Professor put her laced fingers against her lips for a moment, regarding the ceiling. "This would be why you requested the self-study materials from the Ravenclaw collection? Very well. We shall have a House meeting this evening."

That ... was much easier than he thought it would be. Trying not to be a lump, Neville bowed as they rose, and thanked her.

* * *

 

Nehhbell was alert all the day long, its breath short and shallow except for a few times when Rrmyni reminded it. !rribrr shifted over to keep skin against skin, and tried to keep his own breathing deep and regular in example.

!rribrr understood at the end of the day when there was a Large Knot in the small chamber called the !mn Rumm. An elder came, which !rribrr understood was rare, and there was much excited sounding.

The sounding eventually shifted from alarm to acceptance, and the elder left the tads to their own devices.!rribrr's knot went through the plot/barkwork/display set again, sounded together affectionately, and moved out of the !mn Rumm to the upper levels. Some of Nehhbell's chambermates joined it in the waterfall chamber, exuding relief and cheer and unity before all the scents were rinsed away.

Nehhbell was exhausted, poor tad, after being so alert all day, and it seemed that its chambermates were as well. The entire knot was in slumber before !rribrr had settled down to his own rest!


	6. The Librarian's Tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [T]he Bellman cried "Silence! Not even a shriek!"  
> And excitedly tingled his bell.
> 
>  
> 
> There was silence supreme! Not a shriek, not a scream,  
> Scarcely even a howl or a groan[.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may wish to skip the Library tour, but I insist on presenting it.

Potter - _Harry_ \- was ... uneasy the next morning, and when Hermione asked why, wondered about their Library Tour.

He looked at all of their stunned faces and said cautiously, "How it's laid out and organized? What the borrowing rules are? What the reshelving rules are? No?"

W-  _Ron_ said "What's a liberry," and Neville said, "They're  _organized?_ " and Fay demanded,  _"Tours?"_ and Harry looked swiftly around them all, and then fixed an accusing gaze at Hermione. 

Stung, she exclaimed "I just read the posters and used the catalogue!"

Harry cast his eyes up in disgust, but he  _felt_ excited/proud/happy, and said "I guess I'll go arrange one. Anyone want to come?"

Hermione was hideously embarrassed by this hole in her knowledge, and decided not to ruin the arrangement. Ron wanted to go, since he'd never seen a  _liberry_ , and Parvati wanted to go as she thought the idea of getting knowledge her twin didn't have was too funny to pass up.

"That's plenty. We'll see the rest of you at breakfast," Harry pronounced, and they followed him out, Ron protesting "Right now?" and the Hero Of The Wizarding World answering something as the three sped down the hall.

Neville started off as well, in a puzzling amount of satisfaction until he said "You know what this means."

And Dean said with the same strange  amount of satisfaction, "We get bacon this morning!" and started to run.

They wound up tumbling down the stairs laughing, discussing their favorites as they slid into the benches, saving seats for their intrepid trio and passing things around. 

Somewhat peeved with herself, Hermione grumbled, "I don't even like sausages but I crave them!" 

Fay peered around Lavender and asked "Yer parents  ... um,  _healthy_?"

"Yes, they're dentists and insist on good diet and hygiene in addition to what my Sense-i requires," Hermione answered in mystification. 

"Wizarding kids need a lot more calories an' a lot more fats as such than Muggles. Our magic is allus burning through it. Eat yer sausage an' all the other fatty stuff. You'll wear to a ribbon otherwise."

Neville was puzzled-and-suspicious, but dug into his cheezy scrambled eggs and bacon and hot buttered toast with a will, and Hermione gamely attacked her own sausages and beans and porridge - with added cream and butter now that she knew, and blueberries because why not?

Trevor seemed to be having a blast as well; that little pond-setup was perfect for him. 

Harry slid into the seat beside her, smugly announcing their appointment  _today_ , after Charms, and helping himself to a fairly small breakfast with what felt like guilty satisfaction. Parvati was loading sour cream on top of cheese on top of scrambled eggs and fried potatoes as she crowed "Madame Pince smiled at Harry! And told us that we were very wise!"

Ron started to speak, but Seamus thumped him on the top of his head.

"Appearances, idiot! Mouth closed, chew, swallow,  _then_ speak! You'll ruin the whole deal!"

Ron's flare of wrath subsided, replaced by embarrassment, and he carefully followed instructions before putting his hands flat on the table and stating "I have never seen that many books together in my  _life!_ Are you telling me Muggle-borns are  _raised_ with these liberries?"

They spent the rest of the time to Transfiguration correcting his pronunciation and explaining about  _shared resources._

"Wait." He stopped dead in the hall, the rest of them milling in annoyance around him. "Rich families have liberr - uh, libRaries,  _in their houses?"_

"Yes," Neville answered authoritatively, "because they buy books  _and also write_ books in every generation, and keep them out of the sticky little fingers of children and of visitors who do not want to buy them."

Hermione could feel the embarrassing impact of a few lectures behind that, and patted his back in comfort. He smiled ruefully at her.

Harry, meanwhile, had gotten behind Ron and pushed, and they all made it to class in good time.

At practice time, Seamus got Neville's wand, and concentrated. And concentrated, the rest of their House and a couple of the Slytherins watching in puzzlement. And concentrated, and the button suddenly exploded, everyone throwing up their arms defensively. 

As Professor McGonagal made her way over, Seamus demanded out of a grinning and ash-covered face, "Mark that one down, Hermione!"

She carefully did, hearing Ron in the background asking the professor to teach him the spell she used to clean up his classmate, and Professor McGonagal intoning what sounded like a diagnostic spell to find whether Seamus was injured, and, as she set her quill down, a demand for Seamus to show her the same spell with his own wand (and, one hoped, a new button).

Having failed utterly at his first attempt, and spectacularly at his second, Seamus did his third attempt with precision and a tiny beetle peered up at the lot of them. The Professor regarded it dispassionately, and then said to him, "Next class give me four inches on what you did with each wand in turn, what you understood at each point, and what you understood when it went correctly. That, sir, is five points to Gryffindor, and the four inches will be added to your own extra credit points for this project as a whole."

The four of them cheered quietly, and Seamus explained the spell to the rest of the Gryffindors, and they made their way triumphantly to Charms all having produced their own beetles. 

Fay and Ron, it turned out, also had legacy wands, but like Dean Fay had selected hers from a stash and it worked fairly well. Ron had inherited his from his older brother Charlie once he was employed and obtained his own. 

The wand-comparison project instantly became a Gryff-firsties project, and they settled in to Charms with anticipation. 

* * *

Harry Potter, Neville decided as he looked around at all the books, was a genius in his own right. He brought his eyes back to Madame Pince, realizing that he and Miss Hermione were clutching each other's hand, and waited as their group quickly became silent. Madame Pince stood from behind her desk, and a seventh-year Ravenclaw slid into place as she came around to them.

"Please follow me."

The tall dark-eyed woman led them to a door immediately beside the entrance in a line with her desk, and held it open for them, closing it behind herself. 

In the middle of the room stood a table with miniatures of shelves and tables on it in different colors with stripes. Around the walls stood very odd cabinets, the handles to their tiny drawers gleaming bronze against the dark cherry wood. 

Madame Pince spoke in a rich clear City accent.

"You stand within the Catalogue Room for the Library of the Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. On the table you see the layout of the Main Floor, on which the volumes directly associated with classes are to be found. Also on this Floor are the reference works associated with the educational levels of the school as a whole. Reference works and volumes that are not directly associated with the subjects taught are on separate levels, as is the Restricted Section. We will focus on the Main Floor today. If or as your information needs exceed this Floor, I will guide you through the needed levels." She looked around at them. "Individually or, by request, as a group. I applaud your decision to seek this knowledge."

Harry beamed at her, and Neville and the others muttered their thanks.

"The Main Floor is divided first by language, then by field, and then by topic level." She tapped the table with a short hawthorn wand, Neville noted absently, and uttered  _Iconigraphis verbalim engliscum_. The tops of the shelves developed labels in English. The set beside him all began with  _Italian_ and  _Magical Creatures_ and then things like  _Reference_ and  _Pre-School_ and then, somewhat alarmingly, a series of Xes - X, XX, and so forth.

Madame Pince urged them to wander around the table and see where things were.  _English,_ it turned out, was in the area closest to the entrance and surrounding her own desk, while the other languages were set around the edges. 

"Oh! Hindi!" he heard Miss Parvati exclaim at one point. He himself found the Herbology section with delight, and labels like _Native Scottish_  and a good five that started  _Environmental Interactions._

Miss Hermione was uttering quiet peeps of joy, and the looks on Harry's and Miss Fay's faces were of indescribable satisfaction. 

"And now," Madame Pince said, gathering their attention immediately, "having identified the overall location of your areas of interest, you will want to identify those volumes that have the specific information you seek. Please give me an example of a current assignment."

Miss Lavender came up with their Tranfiguration assignment on the buttons-to-beetles work. 

"Ah, yes, the introductory essay. In years past, the assigned content included a description of the incantation and wand movements, the history including the reason for its development, and a comparison to the first transfiguration learned, that of matchstick to needle. Of course you will use your textbook for the descriptions, but the history will be in a Reference Work." She paused suddenly, and looked around them cautiously. "Who here has used a Reference Work?" All of the Muggle-born and -raised lifted their hands, and she smiled coolly in relief. "Will one of you describe a Reference Work for your Wizard-raised classmates?" Their eyes, Neville noted, all turned to Harry, who ducked his head and smiled.

"Reference books have short chapters about different subjects the same way. For example, a Reference on History of the World might have chapters on what happened in specific decades or centuries in each geographic area around the world by enviromenment, catastrophes, social development and politics, so you can compare them. A Reference on Chemistry might have one segment with chapters on each element, and another segment with chapters on groups of similar elements, and another segment on interactions." He turned to Madame Pince. "Are there Wizarding Encyclopedias?"

Her smile at him was warmer. "From time to time an individual or some group has tried to create an encyclopedia, and we have collected them as they are published. You will not find such a thing as the Encyclopedia Brittanica, however, as interest and demand in the Muggle world was not interrupted as it was in the Wizarding world." Again she smiled at him in sympathy with his obvious displeasure. "I do keep a single copy of the Brittanica, though in recent years I have been compelled to keep it in the Restricted Section. If warranted, that can be moved to my desk for easier access while remaining Restricted as required." She smiled at the children who looked delighted, and who muttered to the rest of them things like  _Oh wait til you see!_

"Look at the Table for Reference Works in Transfiguration."

Seamus found it, and pointed it out to the rest of them. 

"For this assignment, merely exploring those shelves should provide you with your needs. However, should you wish to go directly to the appropriate books, you may use the Information Catalogue, which is located around these walls."

She stepped back, angling herself toward the odd cabinetry. "This will be different from what you are accustomed to, Mr Potter, Miss Dunbar. Each of these cards are filed by  _accession of the information_." She smiled somewhat grimly at their response. "Indeed. Therefore you will use the word  _contentuere_ followed by, in English, your subject. Observe."

Tapping the cabinet closest to her, she incanted C _ontentuere history of the transfiguration of a button to a beetle._

Around them containment shelves slid silently from the cabinets and small slips of parchment rose from among their neighbors. 

Harry's eyes were fixed back upon her, and she smiled in what looked like delight. "Mr Potter has divined that the information thus provided is both fragile and clumsy, and that there is a method to work around both."

She turned to the wall by the cabinet closest to the door where a small door, about the size of an Index, made of the same cherrywood and brass as the cabinets, had appeared after her incantation. She opened the door and removed a roll of flimsy paper. Murmuring  _geminodecimus_ , she passed around a copy to each.

On the flimsy paper was a list sorted by location of shelves, titles, and page numbers. Some of the titles also had authors. At the beginning of each listing was a number. 

"At the bottom of your paper is a small map of the Floor and a figure of a stack of shelves. You will be using this to locate the specific listing. Before we go questing for the books, let us discuss the Rules.

"Reference Works do not leave the library. To be precise, Reference Works do not go through the doors, walls, windows, ceilings or floors of the library, as certain Ravenclaws and Weasleys have discovered for themselves." Ron was snickering quietly, and she gave him a sharp grin. "A small bell sounds at the location of the person making the attempt, and the book is automatically reshelved.

"Which takes us to the next Rule. Books are reshelved by the Library when their use is ended. For each chair at a table in the Library there is a Retention Spot. Use that when you are working with several books at the same time, or find your book disappearing when you close it and lay it down. The books on the Retention Spots will reshelve themselves when you pass through the doors, or when the Library closes. Books which are checked out will reshelve themselves when your borrowing period is ended, or if you should place them in your trunk.

Finally, books shall not be damaged. It happens from time to time that someone desires to annotate a book, or to remove a portion of a book. From time to time the exigencies of study and life place fluids near books. Each and every item owned by the Library has preservative and protective runes upon it linked to the intent-based wards within  the Library. Accidents are prevented and deliberate damage is not only prevented but also avenged. Be warned."

Neville smiled. He was sure some of those spells were on the Longbottom Library, and he was going to ensure the rest of them were applied.

"Any questions before we search for your references?" 

Miss Hermione of course had one. 

"What about group study?"

"Excellent question. I will show the Study Rooms and the Study Carrels to you as we go."

She looked around at them. "There are more aspects of the Library that you do not need now that will become useful to you later. If you will arrange a new tour at the beginning of each year, I will inform you of the appropriate matters. If you will present me with individual needs, I will assist you with them. Is there anything else?"

They left the Catalogue Room, went questing for their assignment needs, and wound up in staring around a brightly-lit room with a large table and a number of chairs. 

At which point Ron said, "Madame Pince, we are thoroughly grateful to you. We will see you later today. Gryffindors, it is Lunch. Time. Now."

And since not only his stomach, but about five others, sonorously agreed with him, they all laughed and raced to lunch.


	7. Those that have whiskers  ...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Distinguishing those that have feathers, and bite,  
> From those that have whiskers, and scratch.
> 
>  
> 
> "For, although common Snarks do no manner of harm,  
> Yet, I feel it my duty to say,  
> Some are Boojums—" The Bellman broke off in alarm,  
> For the Baker had fainted away.

!rribrr pushed his face only just far enough out of Nehhbell's outer skins to roll his eyes around the room and take a cautious sniff. Nehhbell had patted him on sitting down rather than transfer him to its shoulder as usual, and while the Toad was completely ready to trust its judgment, he wondered what kind of issue there might be.

He ducked back into the shelter of Nehhbell's skins, his eyes stinging from the overpowering scents of garlic and corpse.

Well then! This was a puzzle! Was this a food-preparation demonstration? 

And ... yes ... underneath that stench was the hungry smell of _predator_ , adult male mammal with  ... was that _reptile_ with it?

!rribrr crouched in on himself a bit more. All of the pundits had been predators so far, but all like the owl: the young were not regarded as prey but as protectees, and the predators had food enough besides. 

This pundit, however, was on the hunt, his voice even chattering a warning like some birds or felines. !rribrr was wholly disregarded as prey, most of the Wixen children likewise: but it had spotted two.

The wixish adder danced back and forth across the empty area just in front of the rear of the cavern, dazing the children with sound and motion. 

!rribrr was terrified. Near him, the wixish snake struck faster than sight. The midnight over birchbark child began bleeding from its forehead, and groaned in pain.

!rribrr sounded, sounded again, the alarm-cry, and the children shook themselves back into alertness, rising to lift the wounded child and remove it to a place of aid, half of the children going together while the other half made their ways down the ledges and out of sight. 

He had become complacent in the presence of so many guardian predators, thinking that they all alike were safe.

He would be quicker with the warning the next time. 

* * *

 

Trevor was still croaking, deep twangs from the back of his throat, never moving from his safe ride in the front of Neville's robes. Neville hitched his backpack a little to ride more securely over his shoulders, and helped Miss Hermione and Seamus shepherd Harry Potter toward the Infirmary. Despite resting heavily across Ron's and Dean's shoulders, the daft kid kept trying for Gryffindor Tower and having to be redirected.

He did not in the least believe the deranged lad was lost due to blood in his eye.

Knowing his destination and his assigned method, Neville put a rather large part of his skull-jelly to the situation just past.

He had known, he had _known_ there was something wrong in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom! He had even protected Trevor! But he had fallen back into timidity, didn't pay attention, didn't get Miss Hermione's attention, and now he was without any information at all about what happened.

Professor Quirrel had seemed exactly the sort of pathetic loss Neville himself was doomed to be: laughable in looks, inept at his job, just plain pitiable. Impossible to understand. And the _stench_!

Neville had tried to turn off his poor nose, had tried to withdraw from the assault on his ears, had tried to ignore the continuous warning: _As I am, so shall you become_. 

And Potter had paid for it. Somehow he had been attacked right in front of the very Sentinel who was supposed to protect them! 

As Miss Lavender, Miss Parvati and Miss Fay opened the doors to the Infirmary and called for Madame Pomfrey, Neville dropped back a little and Miss Hermione dropped right back with him.

"No," she whispered furiously, "this is not your fault!"

"But I knew something was wrong!"

"We don't know what happened to Harry, or how, or why. We can find out. We - all of us, Neville, not just you - lack both knowledge and experience. But remember this, it's important."

She seized him by the shoulders and he drowned in her cinnamon eyes. 

"Experience is what you get right after you need it most."

It echoed. He was stunned silent, his brain ringing the phrase back and forth. He barely felt her drawing him into the room, barely heard Harry wishing not to be a bother, barely, in fact, was aware of everyone moving out of the entire castle. 

Except Harry, who had been potioned into sleep.

"Wot. Jist. Hoppened?" demanded Miss Fay, dropping onto a bench with her bookbag landing beside her. "Wot was all that?"

"Notes," stated Seamus. "Parvati, you take them this time, I'll interview, everyone take a minute and remember."

Dean pulled out a paper tablet and graphite rods as well. "Good idea," Seamus said, "start with the room." 

"Who was first in the door? Where did you sit?" As Seamus built up a word-picture of where everyone and everything had been, Neville settled into the memory. He added things - apparently he had seen more than he'd realized.

Trevor, who had finally stopped croaking, crawled out onto Neville's lap and into his hands. Neville put him on his shoulder, and Trevor shuffled over until he was leaning against Neville's neck. Neville leaned back a little, and took a deeper breath. 

"How did the Slytherins feel at the start of class?" Seamus was now asking Hermione, and Neville took her hand. She squeezed it. 

"Mostly like us," she said slowly. "Light anticipation, some dismissiveness, situational disgust. Mr Zabini and Miss Greengrass were completely shut down  - I remember admiring their self-control - Mr Goyle was worried, and in context I think it would have been about how he would do in class."

"You said mostly," Seamus pursued. "Tell us more."

"Mr Nott was interested and worried about Professor Quirrel; about a change in him?" Her eyes swiveled to Ron. "Like you feel."

"Percy had him for Muggle Studies a couple years ago before he went off for a year," Ron burst out. "He was perfectly normal then! No turban, no stuttering, no garlic. Who even wears a turban?"

"Which brings us to the point. How did Quirrel feel?"

Miss Hermione looked into the middle distance, frowning all over her lovely face. "Chaotic. Mmm ... insane, really, a normal mind ought not to hold some of those feelings at the same time. 

"He was ... all right, he was hungry, and angry, and doubtful, and dead certain, and afraid, and fading out as though he was dying, but also vibrant."

"Hermione," said Parvati. "Seamus, everyone: I can sort that into two separate people. Look," and she showed them her notes.

"I think," Neville added, his bones heavy with reluctance, "that I smelled a dead body in there. But I'm not sure. And even so ..."

"Yeah," Dean chimed in, "if you will ever find a dead body in a classroom legitimately, it'll be in the DADA room," and everyone nodded wryly.

"So, then," Ron chirped. "Go and look up Possession, shall we? Dibs on the definition!"


	8. For striking a light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They roused him with muffins—they roused him with ice—  
> They roused him with mustard and cress—  
> They roused him with jam and judicious advice—  
> They set him conundrums to guess.

"The structure of the charm is contained within the Library's spellwork, so it can be invoked with _colloquere_ by anyone, not just people with a third-year magical core. I do see that you have a research problem," Madame Pince said as she offered them chairs beside her desk. The area was not so much silenced as muted, but Hermione could feel the privacy underlayments.

"I'm not sure how to ask the question," she said frankly.

"Give me the situation, then."

"We think one of the Professors is possessed," Neville responded steadily. "But what do _we_ know? We need to find out if what we went through actually means he is possessed or something else entirely. We need to figure out if we can tell someone now - and who - or if we need more evidence.  We need to know how to protect ourselves while this goes on. 

"A different thing is that Hogwarts is supposed to be the safest place in magical Britain. If so, does that mean he is not possessed, or that the wards do not catch that, or that something happened to them, or is something completely else happening?

"One of us is already injured. Will Madame Pomfrey be able to diagnose what happened to cause it, or is she limited to observing and healing the damage? Do we need to tell her anything to help?"

"So your query requires assessment information and also action information concerning a dangerous situation inside the school," Madame Pince muttered, sliding open the drawer beside her. "It is both easier and harder for Gryffindors than any other House, as your Head is also the Deputy. Take a look at this and tell me if you need help filling it in."

Hermione took the booklet, which had the curiously bland title of **Discrepancy Report** , and read through the questions. "I think we can do it, but would you proofread it for us?"

"Yes, of course. Was it Mr Potter, then, who was injured?" Madame Pince seemed concerned, and Hermione and Neville both nodded. She frowned lightly, but nodded at them, pronounced _Finite_ , and returned to the front of her desk.

At the table the rest of their housemates had settled upon, Neville pronounced _Colloquere_ with pride, and they both grinned at everyone's reaction to the sound mufflement. "We have to keep it low, but this will let us talk out here. Madame Pince gave us this to fill out, and we already have most of the information. Dean, you have the best hand; will you fill it in? We'll give you the answers."

It went pretty fast, and at one point they found Madame Pince beside them to demonstrate the _affere_ charm, that let them simply copy from a book to the booklet, with the citation added.

They finally handed it over to her, and she read through it carefully. 

"This reads as though you had created a document already? Do you have it with you?" Parvati handed it over, with Dean's sketches at the back, and Madame Pince made a copy which she affixed to the end of the booklet. She reviewed it again, and nodded.

"Now." Her dark eyes scanned them all. "Never give up the only copy of anything, regardless of what it may be. _Geminodecimus_ " she muttered, and passed out a copy to each of them, with a second to Ron for Harry. The tenth copy she filed, and the original she tapped, biting out _subito_. It pulsed red, glowed, and disappeared. 

She gave them all a slight, dark, smirk.

"You did very well. This had to do with a problem, and information, and parchmentwork, and the Library is the place where all are dealt with. Go now: see whether Mr Potter may be freed, and have an early dinner, and a solid nap. Remember that you have your first Astronomy class tonight."

* * *

 

Of course it was Ron who announced the problem, but it was Dean who realized the solution, and Neville's picnic basket had room in it for everyone's different food containers, and he borrowed Miss Hermione's wand to shrink it. It went _right_ down. 

Neville stared at the wand in his hand, then gave it back to his friend.

This was intolerable.

He did not have to tolerate it.

He _refused_ to tolerate it any more.

A far better tribute to his parents than using his father's wand would be to use the magical strength that they had blessed him with. 

"How much did your wands cost?"

Dean and Seamus patted him on the back, and Miss Hermione smiled brilliantly at him. 

* * *

 

When they got to the Infirmary, all ozone-sharp with its cleaning charms, Ron rushed to Harry, who looked like he was just now waking up, blinking at them and working his way up out of the sheets. His scar was clean and no longer puffy.

Neville, Miss Hermione and Miss Fay intercepted Madame Pomfrey who had come from her office with a potion in her hand. 

"Kin he come to dinner an' Astronomy class tonight then?" Well, that was Miss Fay all over.

"I believe so, but." And she smiled at them somewhat frostily, almost worthy of Gran, and joined the group at the bed.

"Mr Potter, would you prefer your privacy?" Harry smiled at her shyly, looking around at his housemates in a kind of bewildered delight.

"I  ... no, it's all right. Go ahead." Neville understood entirely. Allies, maybe friends, people who were showing that they are interested in your wellbeing. Different. 

"Pain potion, to catch you up to normal. You may go to dinner and nap. IF it is difficult to wake up, do not go to class tonight. I have a note for Professor Vector. Who should carry it for you?" Ron reached for it, and Harry nodded.

"IF your scar should swell or break open again, come back here instantly." She looked around at the group, who nodded, knowing it would be up to them to make sure of it.

"IF you should experience pain in your scar but it does not swell or break open, make a note of the situation, and come see me at your convenience. Should the pain persist, come back sooner and I will give you another potion. Now: down the hatch, quick as you can."

Neville probably looked that funny too when he took a potion. Yuck. Everyone laughed in sympathy, then the girls started for the door while the boys made sure he was put together, and followed.

 

 


	9. In those shadowy scenes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It is this, it is this—" "We have had that before!"  
> The Bellman indignantly said.  
> And the Baker replied "Let me say it once more.  
> It is this, it is this that I dread!

The rest of the day went rather smoothly, Hermione thought. Everyone packed midnight snacks, which Neville shrank and pocketed in his picnic basket, and Ron got Weasley Senior to teach them a charm to wake them up - and to promise to wake them all by 11pm regardless, sharp lad - and everyone joined her and the lads for stretching and a couple of katas and a short meditation so that they could get the nap in question.

Parvati and Lavender had seized Hermione before they lay down, and had plaited her hair from her forehead to the base of her skull, and then brushed it out and re-plaited it before they left their dormitory.

Harry looked so much better than even before dinner.

Ron was absolutely correct, in that by the time they had had Second Dinner (as Fay called it in glee) they were all wide awake and were able to throw themselves into Professor Sinistra's class.

It was another wandless class like Herbology, so they were all on a level, and Neville was sniffing and listening and looking from the moment they left Gryffindor Tower to the moment he decided they were safe in the Astronomy Tower, and back again. His lips were folded into a stern line, and he clutched her hand both ways, and he managed to herd Harry and Ron into the middle of their group the entire time.

* * *

* * *

The common room was empty when they returned except for the eldest Mr Weasley. Neville went to speak with him, only noticing at the last minute that he had managed to drag Miss Hermione with him.

"I realize that it is well after curfew," he said quietly to the Prefect. "We need a little while to settle down before we'll be able to sleep though. We promise to be in bed by two. I will see to the boys' dorm, and Miss Granger will see to the girls' dorm." She nodded beside him, and after a moment Mr Weasley agreed and returned up the stairs.

They all gathered in the sofa and chairs by the fireplace, leaning together. 

"Defense Against the Dark Arts may be the most terrifying thing I have ever experienced, and I live with Gran and Uncle Algie and the cousins," he started. "Remember how it stank?"

" _Most_ disgusting thing ever," agreed Parvati, "and I have traveled through Muggle Mombai!" 

They all stared at her, trying to imagine it.

"Well, I've been trying to separate out the smells," Neville continued. 

"You said you could smell a dead body," Seamus nodded. "What else then?"

"Dried blood. Reptile. Cold stone, that had - body fluids - soaked into it," he said delicately and with disgust. "Unwashed adult man. And that was just the room. I don't think that turban has ever been washed, and _it_ smelled of reptile and old body fluids." He leaned his neck against Trevor and clutched Hermione's hand.

"Harry? The same smells are coming, very lightly, from your scar."

They all stopped breathing in horror. Heads swiveled from Neville to Harry and back.

"But He's dead," Ron said faintly. "Harry defeated him when he was a baby." He was leaning hard against the smaller boy, and Lavender clutched Harry from the other side.

"Defeated ain't necessarily dead," Fay said in a trembling voice, edging closer into the group. Harry cleared his throat, and then again. 

"Are you talking about Voldemort? Only I just found out about him on," he counted on his fingers, "last Wednesday for the first time ever."

"What? The Duke and Duchess of Osterland didn't tell you about Him when they taught you History?"

"The Seven Sages of Siberia didn't explain how you defeated Him when they taught you how to ride dragons?"

"You didn't learn about Him and his Death Eaters when you were learning the Lordship protocols of the House of Potter?"

"None of the Death Eaters of Borgenrafe Bay mentioned Him when you drove them out with your pet thestrel?"

Harry's face went from terrified to puzzled to baffled to snickering, and he said "What what what what WAIT, what on Earth are you talking about? I was raised by Muggles! I don't know anything about dragons! House of Potter? I didn't know my own _first_ name until I went to school! Sages?" He was becoming hysterical. "That's really wise people, right? I wasn't ever allowed to get better grades than my cousin, and let me tell you something, he was No. Scholar! Lordship? I lived in the _boot cupboard_ until my Hogwarts letters came! My aunt and uncle weren't going to let me come at all! Hagrid had to knock down the door and take me away!"

He was shouting in a whisper, laughing with his face all screwed up and tears dripping unnoticed from his jaws, and they all, every one of them, even the Muggle-borns and Half-bloods, were staring at him in an entirely new horror.

Neville whispered hoarsely, "Do you mean you don't know who I am?"

Harry caught his breath, scrubbing his hands over his face, and obviously forced calm on himself. "I don't have amnesia. You are Neville Longbottom, and he is Ron Weasley, and she is Fay..."

"Your mother was my godmother. My mother was your godmother." Harry's eyes went round and his mouth dropped open. "So you weren't ignoring me because I wasn't worthy of you?"

"My relatives told me there was no one else to take me in. That I should be grateful they gave me a roof and a chance to redeem my drunken parents."

"We were supposed to be raised together. Your parents and my parents were all war heroes and friends. The Longbottoms and the Potters have been allies on the fields of battle and the halls of the Wizengamot for centuries. We were all told you were living in the lap of luxury being trained for war and glory and that's why you were never seen."

Harry wiggled free of the sofa and stood up, and Neville rose to his feet as well.

"Will you be my godbrother then? My family?" Harry asked, and Neville seized him in a hug, shaking as much as the other boy.

Behind them, Lavender said "We have a lot more trouble than we thought," and Dean answered "Oh yes."

At which point Trevor croaked once, and Hermione apologized to the Toad and reminded them they needed to sleep. 

In their dorm, Ron looked at Neville and they both looked at the other boys.

"Who's up for nightmares, then? I say we all sleep in Harry's bed."

"Oh thank you Ron," Harry answered dryly, while everyone else thought it sounded like just the thing.

There was even almost enough room, and they buried Harry in the middle, and no nightmares managed to stick to anyone, so in the morning they counted it as a win.

 


	10. Shaking out the dust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Y]ou'd best be unpacking the things that you need  
> To rig yourselves out for the fight."
> 
>  
> 
> Then the Banker endorsed a blank check (which he crossed),  
> And changed his loose silver for notes.  
> The Baker with care combed his whiskers and hair,  
> And shook the dust out of his coats.

Hermione's dorm mates attacked her in the shower the next morning, combing water through her hair and not letting her use her own shampoo and conditioner. Lavender had a tiny vial of metallic pink potion that she carefully worked through Hermione's kinks and frizzes but forbade her from rinsing out, and Parvati combed her hair out again once they were all dry with their teeth clean.

With each sweep of the thick-toothed cedarwood, her hair became less wet, less damp, entirely _dry_  at last, and her normal frizz had set into tiny long curls.

Fay's mouth twisted into a thoughtful frown, and she brought out quite a lovely inlaid wood box, pulling out some bronze clamps she used to force Hermione's hair back from her face. 

"You've got Irish hair," she stated. "You can't be treating it like English hair like Lavender's, or Cornish hair like mine. Let alone trying to treat it like Indian hair," and Parvati nodded, the satin ebon fall of her own hair caught back into a braid.

"Isn't that what you've just done?" Hermione answered, a little bit peeved. 

"No no no," Lavender beamed at her. "We've used our tools, but we haven't tried to make it look like ours. You look like [Scathach](https://www.ancient-origins.net/myths-legends/woman-behind-man-celtic-warrior-scathach-teacher-warriors-006309), now, see?"

Well. She supposed she did look fierce instead of fuzzy.

"Sorry to resist," she said. "You have done me a complete favor, and I appreciate it."

"Knights have squires," Parvati said breezily, leading them down the stairs. 

"Armor comes in all types," Lavender added.

"The Japanese've taught us that the best defense 'gainst slings 'n arrows is silk," Fay said in her solemn way. Hermione had watched that documentary, her eyes wide as soup-plates, and she huffed at herself, accepting the allegory with the literal.

* * *

Breakfast was fairly quiet, as late as they were to arrive. All the Heads of House except Professor Flitwick were already gone, though Professor Sinistra was tending to a cup of tea, as drowsy as the lot of them. Professor Quirrel was, thankfully, not there. Hermione leaned in.

"Potions is tomorrow," she said softly. "We've been busy but we need to get ready. I think we should practice with Professor Binns, since Weasley Geminae say that he rarely pays attention to students anyway."

Ron's eyebrows had met his hair. "Who - what did you just say?"

Hermione's face went hot. "Um. The twins? Weasley Major is the Prefect who has helped us out. You are Ron but you were Weasley Minor, the youngest one. It's. It's a way to distinguish between members of the same family."

The others were laughing at the both of them, but Ron was chewing over the phrase silently, bouncing his head with it as he slowly grew a smile. 

"And what of Padma and me?" Parvati enquired, eyes alight. 

"Well, you two aren't basically the same person," Ron assured her as though they had thankfully avoided a heinous faux pas. Which perhaps was what he meant; an image presented itself of being a younger brother to the Weasley twins, and Hermione shuddered in sudden sympathy. 

"Patil Eruditum and Patil Fortum, I think," she answered the previous question. "I'm sorry. I think my dad has been a poor influence on me."

"I think Geminae is perfect," Ron pronounced. "I plan to call them that to their faces. And also just Gem for either one. Anyway. Professor Binns?"

She shook the cobwebs loose, and said "'Thank you, Professor. I will practice to do better.' Do _not_ say 'I will try to do better.'"

"There is no _try_ , there is only do," Fay and Seamus chorused comically, swivelled and stared at each other, and fell over laughing. Dean looked at Seamus, looked at Fay, and then looked pleadingly at Hermione. 

She picked up her bag and led the cackling crew to their doom. Um, class.

* * *

Hermione snagged Ron to sit on her other side from Neville, who had tucked Harry in between himself and Dean. 

"What are the goals for tomorrow?" she muttered. 

"Do not die. Do not crack. Do not give him any excuses."

"Give me a sunny smile. - Oh, no, that was horrible! Try ... try an innocent smile. Ulp, no, like this. You set up a practical joke, and you made it seem like something that the twins would do. You have to make your mother believe that you didn't even know anything _had happened_. Give me that smile."

Hermione looked flatly at him. "Get caught a lot, do you?"

Ron lifted his upper lip off all of his teeth in agreement. 

"Maybe something entirely different for you. Think about  ... oh! Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor! Bring it up in your mind and give me that smile."

She grimaced; that one would get him arrested on suspicion of being a serial killer whose victims hadn't been _missed_ yet.

"Maybe chess?" he offered. "Maybe playing against someone who I don't know how good they are, and they don't know how good I am, and there's a move I don't want them to see?"

"So show me."

Oh, now _that_ was good. "How long can you hold it?"

"Actually, if I have that as my mindset, I can keep it all day."

"How about  ... if you are playing against an adult who is proud of his skills ..."

Ron smiled a crocodile smile. "And I do want to learn anything I can from him, and I don't want him to know how good I am even after I've beaten him twice? I can do that. I _have_ done that." He settled himself, his hands on the desk, looking down at nothing. He took a breath and dropped his shoulders.

And then he looked at her with eager humble attention. 

And his _Sense_ was all eager humble attention! 

"Perfect! Absolutely immaculate! My heartfelt congratulations!"

All right. All right. Everyone else knew how to do it. Hermione could pay attention to the lecture, and perhaps devise a strategy for History. 

Fay was taking detailed notes. Perhaps Fay could devise the strategy. Hermione was going to attempt to get a Sense of a ghost. 

* * *

Miss Fay had come up with a plan that they needed to begin immediately, during lunch.

"Momma called it Heaping Coals of Fire on Their Heads. It's got a couple versions. The first one is when someone is mean to you, and you are sweet and helpful back at them, then they can get embarrassed at their own selves and start treatin' you better. 

"The second is when that ain't a thing they can do, and you know it, but you are sweet and kind to them to show them and ever'one else that you are a better person than them."

She frowned at Ron again. "You must never ever break character on it, or You Lose because then you are just a hypocrite."

"I can maintain, thank you very much," Ron said frostily, but then cracked and grinned at himself, while everyone else laughed. 

"Gryffindor has to tell the other three Houses about Library Tours."

Of course. It would be a gift. But Neville saw a problem. 

"What, mmm, what about our own Housemates? We should tell them first, right?"

This was agreed upon, and Ron and Neville escorted Harry up to the Seventh Year Prefects, grabbing Weasleys Major and Geminae as they went.

* * *

The children were nearly humming with their plans and practices the entire rest of the Day and all of the Evening, and !rribrr kept his eyes scanning and his tongue flicking in support.

Nnebell was watching and sniffing as well.

Rrmyni was teaching it how to Keep Watch!

!rribrr went on the prowl in the contained spaces where the pundits were and in the !mn Rumm where the young Wixen of their trunk gathered. He sat vigil on Nnebell's arm-strut as they went from place to place, and when he smelled that terrible predator again he sounded, sounded again until the children turned from their way and hid in a cave they could seal shut. Nnehbell fixed unseeing eyes on the sealed wall and they both listened, listened, listened until they could no longer hear or smell him.

!rribrr croaked, open-mouthed, and Nnehbell sounded in agreement, and they led the others out and back on their way.

The Elder was back in the !mn Rumm that Evening, singing alone to the young Wixen assembled, stirring up confusion and then a growing sense of relief and safety. She then came to speak with Nnebell's flight and with Nnehbell directly. It and Rrmyni sounded in agreement, and when she left the entire flight met their eyes together before beginning their normal evening patterns. 

!rribrr kept watch.


	11. All His Jewels And Rings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He would joke with hænas, returning their stare  
> With an impudent wag of the head:  
> And he once went a walk, paw-in-paw, with a bear,  
> "Just to keep up its spirits," he said.

_Dear Gran,_

_School is very different from what the Cousins led me to believe. Please extend the enclosed Thank You Note to Uncle Algie. Trevor-the-toad has been a blessing to us all._

_As I informed you the evening of my arrival, I did sort into Gryffindor and have made friends, now comprised of the entire first year of my House and extending across several House lines. I present for your especial consideration Miss Hermione Granger whose unstinting and thoughtful assistance has been no less than a boon to our Magical House, and Mr Ronald Weasley, best friend and staunch defender of my godbrother Harry Potter._

_It is in fact in the matter of Harry that I write to you this evening. Though my entire soul shudders in revulsion at his report, we in the Wizarding World have been lied to in our very faces. He has not been raised in luxury and extensive training as I listened to the Chief Warlock tell us in every June Wizengamot since you began taking me, and as each edition of The Fabulous And True Adventures of The Boy-Who-Lived has claimed in detail. Instead, he has been used as the Malfoys do their House Elves by his Muggle relations, with no idea of his own proper name, let alone the existence of Magic or any truth about his martyred parents and familial legacy._

_The moment he understood the existence of Alice Longbottom he claimed me as godbrother and has clung to me. We none of us have said anything to him as yet about the Letters, as it is only too evident that they also have been withheld from him and he is sufficiently overwhelmed._

_Therefore I request that you send me the following soonest:_

_The Potter-Longbottom junior alliance badges. Please check on the charmwork and renew it as needed._

_A validated copy of the Annals of the Potter-Longbottom Alliance. This reminds me: were you aware of the Catalogue Room in the library here at Hogwarts? It is easily the most magical place within this most magical of places, and the person with the least exposure to the Wizarding World is the one who procured us access to it!_

_Fifteen Galleons. We intend to replace Harry's soiled tea-towels with actual human garb, and while he now has a certain amount of access to his Trust Vault, the rest of us also wish to offer him wrapped presents, the which he has also been strictly denied._

_(He is not actually wearing tea-towels as even at his desperately reduced size they would not cover him. No: he is wearing the ragged cast-offs of his slovenly and enormous cousin. Once we have replaced them, I shall send them to you for consideration of appropriate political action.)_

_Deputy Headmistress McGonagal will be contacting you and the rest of the parents and guardians by separate owl regarding our Class Trip for this purpose._

_Our final class for the week is Potions tomorrow morning. I intend to write again Saturday morning to give you more details._

_With loving respect,_

_Neville_

_P.S. This is Harry's lovely owl Hedwig, who has agreed to wait for your reply. I think we can conclude that, whatever other lies have been given us, Harry's ability to maintain a major familiar bond is a sound vindication of his magical power._

* * *

Hermione led her friends through stretches, and a meditation, and a revision of their plans and goals for the day. Everyone put on their Bright Shining Faces, although one of the Second Years passing by came down with shudders at the sight.

"Before we go down," Neville spoke up, "Harry and I are affirming the Potter-Longbottom Alliance. We are wearing the badges of the Alliance on our jumpers under our robes. We wanted to offer each of you a place in the Alliance if you want it."

"None of the rest of us have Seats in the Wizengamot," Dean commented, dubious but intrigued. Harry shook his head.

"Apparently the Alliance was 'On all fields of conflict,' which  ..."

"Yeah," everyone grinned with him.

"I'm in," Faye and Dean said in unison, and, laughing, accepted their badges. Hermione got in line for hers, vibrating in joy.

"I am going to need help keeping my brain behind my teeth," she muttered to Neville, who took her hand with a lopsided smile.

"Goals for today?" he murmured back as they hit the stairs. 

"Gain information, do not give it to the adults. And only a bludger's worth to the students."

Ahead of them, Fay waved down the Ravenclaw firsties. 

"Did you hear about the Catalogue Room in the Library?" As they were shaking their heads, Harry chimed in "You have got to take a library tour! See if your Prefects won't schedule you one!"

Neville called to Terry-the-wizard, "Harry got us one! I assure you, no Ravenclaw will want to miss this!" And they passed on down the stairs.

* * *

They swanned into the Great Hall all smiles, beaming at the Professors at the Head Table, Neville, Miss Hermione, Harry and Dean going so far as to send tiny waves of their hands at Professor McGonagal (who gave them a shallow and grave nod in return). All of them turned their Smiles Of Humble Anticipation onto Professor Snape, who regarded them with a suspicion so deep that he forgot to sneer. 

They split up smoothly, Seamus, Miss Lavender and Miss Parvati breezing up to the Hufflepuff table, Ron, Dean, and Miss Fay bearing down upon their breakfasts with all deliberate speed, and Neville with Harry and Miss Hermione turning without pause toward the Slytherin table.

"Good morning!" Miss Hermione chirped at Mr Malfoy. "I regret interrupting your meal in this graceless fashion. Would you do us the honor of introducing myself and Mr Longbottom to your yearmates?"

His eyes and polite smile fixed on Mr Malfoy, Neville had the Professors _tagged_ and would be aware the moment any of them rose from their table.

Mr Malfoy rose from his seat as gracefully as was possible from a long bench, waving Mr Crabbe and Mr Goyle to remain in their places.

Neville recognized his expression from the inside: trapped into a humiliating and inescapable situation that required him to appear engaged. Fortunately for each and every one of them, humiliation was not upon the menu this day.

Or, hopefully, ever.

"Millicent Bulstrode, Daphne Greengrass, Pansy Parkinson, allow me to present to you Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom. Miss Granger, Mr Longbottom, this is Miss Parkinson, Miss Greengrass, and Miss Bulstrode. 

"Miss Granger joins our world for the first time this year, while you may remember Mr Longbottom from various Children's Quadrilles and Yule Balls. The Houses of Greengrass and Parkinson are among the Sacred Twentyeight, and are placed upon the Wizengamot. Miss Bulstrode's family has seven generations in the Wizarding World. "

He actually hesitated before abandoning the effort to say anything else.

"Miss Granger, while you will remember Mr Goyle and Mr Crabbe, please allow me to present Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini. Their families are likewise among the Twentyeight and the Wizengamot."

He stopped helplessly, palpably unsure of his next move, but Miss Hermione just beamed at them all and overbore his hesitation. 

"It is such a pleasure to meet you all! Please allow me to present to you Mr Harry James Potter, who has gained notoriety among the First-Year Gryffindors for cracking open the secrets of Hogwarts Library. Alone among us all, he had engaged in Library Tours while he was trapped in Muggle Suburbia, and had the wit to request one for us for this library. Mr Potter?"

Just as readily as they had been doing this entire time, Harry chimed in with no pause whatsoever. They had planned out the entire thing yesterday afternoon, written each line and practiced it, and Ron had _gamed it out_ with Hermione to find any phrase that did not serve their aims.

"When I was living as slave labor and whipping boy with my magic-hating relatives, the only thing that they could not prevent me from doing was attending school. It is the law in the Muggle world, and Ministry Officials and Aurors will force families and guardians to permit children to leave the house and go to school. For the first week I couldn't figure out what I liked best: finding out what my name was, or having a meal every. Single. Day.

"The second week I found out what I liked best. The school had a library, and all of the students in each class was taken to it and shown how it worked."

He continued to extol the wonders of understanding how to get at information while Miss Hermione and Neville monitored the reactions of the students to his unadorned (and seemingly unknowing) dismissal of every single and solitary thing they thought they had known about him.

"So once my yearmates realized exactly what they had almost missed, we decided to make sure each of the Houses found out too. Madame Pince has assured me that she would be delighted to schedule tours for any group, and our Prefects are discussing how to do just that. 

"We just wanted all the first years to hear it directly from us. We've already told Ravenclaw on our way down this morning, and split up tell you and Hufflepuff."

Neville's turn.

"We are looking forward to working with you in Potions shortly, but please forgive us for running off to our breakfasts." He grinned, if shyly, at Harry. "We're trying to get Potter used to three meals a day."

Professor Snape had risen from his chair, but Neville and his godbrother and his guide had given cheery little bows and dashed to their own table. 

Miss Hermione snagged Harry's hand and pretended to pull him along, emitting _comfort_ and _pride_ so hard that Neville caught the edges of it.

"It is _not your shame_ , Harry. It is the shame of whoever in the Wizarding World placed you in that position, and it is the shame of those subhuman monsters who chose to treat you that way. And you do not owe _any single one_ of them the privacy to get away with it."

"Humble eagerness and blithe disregard," he muttered as they fell upon their rightful prey, Harry going for an unprecedented second egg this morning in defiance of his own starvation, and Trevor near-pushing himself out of Neville's robes to get to his miniature pond.

"Confusion to the enemy," Neville agreed, picking up his bowl of porridge for safe and neat consumption.


	12. With Wondering Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The thing can be done," said the Butcher, "I think.  
> The thing must be done, I am sure.  
> The thing shall be done! Bring me paper and ink,  
> The best there is time to procure."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Certain portions were lifted entire from the source material, not least because who could possibly improve on Dame Rowling's words?

"Ah, Miss Granger," came a cool female voice from near the door to the Potions Classroom as the group arrived. 

"Would you do us the pleasure of introducing the remaining members of your yearmates?"

That was Daphne Greengrass, blonde of feature and blank of affect. She, Mr Nott and Mr Zabini were still standing, though Mr Crabbe got back to his feet to join them.

Hermione beamed at them, and presented Fay, Parvati and Lavender - who had the audacity to twinkle! And then Seamus, Ron, and Dean.

The boys did very well, she thought, settling down beside Neville on the aisle side and across from Miss Greengrass. As instructed (and practiced), they were all delight and cheerful bows. Fay had corralled Ron (because she didn't trust him any further than Trevor could shift him, she had said earlier), and Harry was tucked in beside Parvati.

_"Our definition of Pureblood is different in the Indian community," she had said earlier, the sweetest of smiles on her lovely face. "It means passionately devoted to Magic, and implies the training and willingness to protect the people of Magic by every means available. We wear jewel-encrusted enchanted golden blades in formal situations because our everyday enchanted steel blades just aren't fancy enough, but they both propel blood from the corrupt at exactly the same speed." And she had slid a protective smile in Harry's direction._

As an English girl, Hermione was fairly certain she was supposed to find that attitude savage and uncivilized and more than somewhat alarming. As a Guide and therefore as much a "throwback" as any Sentinel, and also as a Gryffindor, she found it deeply satisfying. She also was planning to acquire such an _ordinary_ enchanted blade as soon as circumstances allowed.

Showtime. Professor Snape had paused a few feet down the hall and gathered a Sense of Contempt around himself. Hermione sent a pulse of cheerful readiness to her classmates.

He strode into the classroom at speed, his cloak and robes snapping around him, already speaking in a low, compelling voice underlaid with a kind of supercilious despair that Hermione put away to examine later.

"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class."

Neville beamed at him in honest relief, which was the direct cause of another furrow between the dark brows.

"As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making," he sneered with an overt Sense of Insult covering an honest Sense of wounded Solitude. 

He surveyed the entire class.

"However, for those select few who possess the predisposition, I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death."

His body language murmured that only the Slytherins present would deserve that tuition, but his Sense bellowed that no one here would any more be able to learn than anyone else he'd ever had the misfortune of trying to teach. 

"Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough to not pay attention!"

Oh, he had mistaken his target there; they were all pinned to his every move, and obviously so.

"Mr. Potter. Our new ... celebrity."

Harry shifted forward even a little more, his entire body eager, and murmured "Yes, Professor Snape."

After a microsecond's pause, the Professor continued, "Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"I don't know yet, Professor," he said, and that boy was _so_ good: he was quivering on the edge of his seat as if about to launch himself on a scavenger hunt. The Professor barely hid his unease. 

"You don't know? Well, let's try again. Where, Mr. Potter, would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?" Harry hastily scribbled down the three words, for all the world as though he were prepared to fly to the library instantly, shaking his head in an evident attempt to answer while writing. 

"And what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Harry was biting his lip in honest delight as he wrote them down, and burbled "I don't know yet, Professor Snape."

(Beside her, Neville had come to full alert. But, in line with the Plan, he stayed put.)

" ... Pity," the Professor replied with just a touch of visible bewilderment. "Clearly, fame isn't everything, is it, Mr. Potter?"

"Oh no, Professor Snape. Thank you for understanding!"

What happened next was completely unexpected. 

The Professor stood utterly motionless, staring at Harry, with no derision anywhere within his visible and invisible attitude. 

He blinked.

And then from a complete mental and physical stillness, he leaned forward and said urgently, 

"For your information Potter, Asphodel and Wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of the Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and will save you from most poisons. As for Monkshood and Wolfsbane, they are the same plant which also goes by the name of Aconite. Well?" he roared suddenly around the class at large. "Why aren't you all copying this down?"

But the only ones scrambling for their quills were the Slytherins. The Gryffindors had been scribbling furiously since Harry had heard the first question. 

And Neville was nodding to himself as he wrote. 

* * *

 The rat was sound asleep again, and the owl had taken off for her own business. !rribrr was very careful in sliding under the door. No need to be stepped on the moment that he appeared in the corridor. Then it was a straight shot down the stairs, and through the !mn Ruum over to the small dark tunnel they used as an entry.

Then waiting beside the wall until one Wixen child or another opened the wall.

Leave him in the sleeping chamber! 

!rribrr leapt silently through the opening door, and tasted the air currents. 

Oh, there they went.

He went bounding along the corridor, leaping down the ledges, soaring over the gaps as they groaned and rotated, and came at last to the cold tunnels, where the clean scent of stone was the brightest. It was even easier to follow the children here, and he cautiously approached the cavern in which a pundit was speaking, shaking out his quivering rear legs as he went. Toads - did not usually leap as Frogs did. Only a Sharing Of Gifts some centuries back allowed it at all, and  it would never be comfortable.

He tasted the air.

Dried things, long-dead things faintly scentable through crystal containers, acrid odors of spilled liquids. 

There: the floor was unsafe for Animals who would touch it with bare flesh. He was undeterred: he could keep watch from here.

 _Leave him in the sleeping chamber!_ No.

Fortunately, this particular predator pundit was not on the hunt at the moment, though !rribrr had no intention of assuming that would continue. He would not be caught on the hop again. His children would be as safe as a Watchful Toad could manage.

He hopped behind the shield of the wall when the basin exploded, but classified instantly the scents and sounds that had preceded it so he would recognize them in future. From the notes of the pundit's sounding, that explosion was both an accident and preventable. 

Very well. Perhaps there was another reason for _leaving him in the sleeping chamber_ , but !rribrr intended to convey his dissatisfaction with the decision anyway. 

Two children from the other flight came through the door, one of them in deep physical dismay. !rribrr watched them go up the corridor to the ledges with one eye while keeping the other roving the chamber before him.

Soon enough, the children began clearing their areas, and !rribrr was fairly certain he heard Rrmyni say his name. Nnehbell nodded its head, but did not look for him at all until after handing its crystal to the pundit and gathering its possessions. 

!rribrr waited patiently. 

* * *

Neville went far enough down the hall not to be seen from the classroom before bending down and waiting for Trevor to come to him.

And then they all went as far as the stairs, Trevor's eyes swiveling wildly in all directions until they began to climb. And then the Toad fixed both of them reproachfully on Neville and began to sound.

"I don't care!" he exclaimed over the croaking reptile. "Potions class wouldn't be safe for any familiar, let alone a Gryffindor Toad!"

Somewhere he was aware of the complete spectacle he and Trevor were making of themselves, but he was no longer afraid of humiliation. Fay and Ron were right: if you knew it was coming, it was not a problem. 

He and Trevor continued to yell at each other all the way to lunch, with their friends snickering and cackling around them. 


	13. That Desperate Bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The maker of Bonnets ferociously planned  
> A novel arrangement of bows:  
> While the Billiard-marker with quivering hand  
> Was chalking the tip of his nose.

In the event, it was Dean who shared his ordinary clothes with Harry for their field trip when they all went up to change, and who set the resizing charms.

Harry hesitated, but only for a minute, before passing over all of his cousin's garments to Neville to place in the mailing box Gran had sent.

They checked the set of each others' Badges,  and made sure that they were all Gran-clean.

The girls were all correct when they came down, neat and subdued and looking as though they had never needed a tethering charm among them. 

They gazed at each other solemnly.

And then cracked up laughing like hænas all, until they could get back under control.

Neville held out his hand to Hermione, and Ron linked his arm with Harry, and everyone else clustered around them to march to Deputy Headmistress McGonagal's office. 

Gran had really come through for him and by extension for the alliance. Her letter had been alarming, though, everyone agreed. 

_Dear Grandson,_

_Events moving as quickly as you indicate in your letter make it obvious to me that you have matured at an unanticipated speed to cope with them. I can do nothing less than to support you in a manner that I plead with Morgana to be spectacularly beyond your coming needs. I would rather have you use only the twelfth part than to find I have underestimated the need. Budgeting closely is a peacetime practice._

Professor McGonagal came from a door at the back of her office in a muted tartan dress under an emerald robe, her black cloak ready to put on her shoulders at need. For hat she wore a round velvet beret, for ease in flooing Neville suspected, and she indicated the box of floo-powder on her mantelpiece with a quiet reminder to enunciate. 

Neville tossed his pinch and called _Leaky Cauldron_ , stepping briskly to the side.

_Please find enclosed your Trust Vault key. I take the liberty to remind you that your Trust limit is set at Ğ2000 annually. Should events outstrip us all, a Letter of Intent is now on file with the Bank up to Ğ100,000. If access to that should prove needed, I would appreciate hearing the story once time and tide allow._

His own wand, yes, and he could outfit Harry and all the others as well. In _dragonhide_. From a _small portion_ of his Trust Vault. Without any justification to anyone. 

Not. Not that this was necessary. But the freedom and encouragement to do just that made him slightly giddy, so he might have clutched Hermione just a little tightly as she spun from the Floo. 

She grinned at him and de-sooted them both, then turned so they could help the rest of them (Harry!) survive the exit.

So many of them through so quickly meant that no one noticed Harry in among the students, which was according to plan. 

_Together with the Letter of Intent, I have placed Requests with the Bank to remove from your Core the Infant Bond placed by your parents, together with any other bonds and limiters and the like that they might find. You might consider taking friends or your godbrother with you and make an Outing of it. I found my own such outing caused a clear lightening of my heart._

Gossiping brightly, they bumbled their way down the Alley, waving at anyone who paused to look at them and looking adoringly in turn at their Professor. Professor McGonagal was kind enough to grace them with a version of her _introducing the Muggleborn to the Alley_ smile, thus making it obvious that this was a school-sanctioned outing, nothing special to stare at here, folks, move along.

They gathered themselves into a neat pack at the foot of the stairs to Gringotts, and Hermione dropped back beside Ron. Harry and Neville fixed their eyes on the doors and marched up together, pausing one step below the landing. 

Still not looking at any of the guards, Harry said sternly, "May there be profit to the Clan," and Neville added as cleanly as the Weasley twins "and confusion to its enemies."

And they continued up to the doors, their alliance behind them, the doors opening before them _as never happened_.

The Index to the Annals was dead useful. 

_Although it is against the Protocols of Longbottom to allow an underage Heir unlimited access to the Family Vault, I have placed Permits with the Bank for you to have free access to the Vault at any time and for any length of time, and for you to take away with you any items that you desire that you can carry. This is separate from monetary access._

Neville and Harry moved to a location central to the movements of the Goblins and distant from any Wizarding folk. Behind them, the alliance moved silently, eyes fixed only on the two of them. At the rear, Professor McGonagal stood tall and limber, eyes relentlessly scanning the entire Lobby.

Harry and Neville kept their eyes on the middle distance, allowing their appointed guides to approach them in their own time.

_As you are no longer in residence and thus the need for a male presence has expired, I have sent home your father's Uncle and the Cousins. Naturally, should you wish their presence again after having returned home, you may summon them at that point._

_For myself, I have requested that the House-Elves close down all of the Hall except for the Heir, Dower, and Public Apartments. They have gone into an ecstasy of Cleaning and have made a game of discovering things left behind that do not belong to the household. Loath as I am to spoil their fun after dealing with the Family all this time, I have had them place such items in stasis chests for analysis at the end._

Neville caught sight of the approaching Goblins well before they thought he had, and was able to signal Harry so that they focused on their guides in perfect unison.

The guards went to the four corners of the group, and the remaining Goblin, a senior teller by his dress and a member of the Zaard clan by the shape of his jaw, swerved to the lead and set off. 

The children and their guardian followed silently, wasting none of the time granted to them.

Neville could see the senior teller's neck twitching above his collar. Good manners, while wonderful, were completely unexpected. 

Operation Keep Them Off Guard was progressing nicely. 

_Finally, I have given to Minerva McGonagal an overarching Permission Slip for the school year, reaching up to, but not including, willing human sacrifice. At eleven years of age, your Core is insufficient to manage this._

_Please give my greetings to your alliance. Please request any item or service that you may require. I anticipate your letters with gratitude._

_All my love,_

_Gran_

Willing human sacrifice. They had looked at each other in vast alarm, and then Neville had decided to take it as evidence of his Gran's sense of humor. 

Well, it was only right to spread the alarm.

 


	14. Not a chance must be wasted to-day!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [T]he Butcher turned nervous, and dressed himself fine,  
> With yellow kid gloves and a ruff—  
> Said he felt it exactly like going to dine,  
> Which the Bellman declared was all stuff."

Hermione could not help but yawn, which promptly ran around the table, resulting in a mildly reproachful drop of the eyelid from her last victim. 

"So sorry! Oh my _such_ a long day!"

Neville patted her knee, wavered back upright, and put down his fork.

"Harry, are you feeling better?"

Harry nodded at his godbrother across the table, swallowing his bite of trifle.

"No. pain. In my head, or in my bones, or in my back, or anywhere. Can you still see my scar?" He pushed up his fringe.

Everyone peered at him and replied in the negative by word or sign or grunt, which had their Head of House casting her eyes up in overdone and comic dismay. Hermione smiled at her, though; Professor McGonagal was being _so_ forebearing with them today. She might teach Transfiguration, but the Privacy Charm she had placed on this restaurant table was amazing. Hermione _wanted_ it.

"Ron, how are you feeling?" she asked anxiously. 

The core bindings on Neville and Harry had been expected. The one on Dean was less so; and the _maliferitous_ hex on Ron had been completely unexpected.

Fortunately, the permissions Professor McGonagal already had as their Head of House had allowed her to authorize the Goblins' work on all the various and distressing magic every last one of them except Parvati had been under. 

He began to reply, cast a fearful look at Seamus, and swallowed. 

"Like someone took a fwooper off my shoulder, you have no idea! I thought it was just because of being the youngest boy!"

"I have the detailed report from the Bank," Professor McGonagal added, leaning forward slightly. "I shall be speaking with your parents concerning this. And your mother as well, Mr Thomas." He nodded from down the table, most of his attention on the frosty cup of limola he was drinking.

Magical restaurants were incredible. The food on her plate was still hot or cold, the ice crystals in her never-empty goblet of grenadine punch still held their shape, and they had had continuous service without any waiter since their orders were first taken.

"Professor, what can you tell us about Professor Quirrel?" Hermione was anxious about him. The way everyone got silent and leaned forward, they all were.

The Professor patted her lips with her napkin.

"The Discrepancy Report you filed allowed Madame Pomfrey to summon a specialist team from St. Mungo's Hospital directly, who were able to contain him for examination and treatment. On last report, the possessing spirit - he-who-must-not-be-named, as you suspected, Mr Longbottom - had been extracted and contained, and Mr. Quirrel is resting comfortably under Auror guard."

She sat back, a frown worthy of Jove on her brow.

"That specific type of possession is by consent only, so he will be facing charges. Mr Potter, you may be asked some questions by the Aurors, but I will be present if so."

She sighed. "Meanwhile we have no Defense Professor. Again. At the." She folded her lips together, then started again. "At the beginning of the year. Should we be unable to fill the post by the time of your next class, I suggest that you diligently read through the chapters in your text in preparation." She pressed her lips together again, then frowned thoughtfully at them.

"As you are a most unusual year, I should ask: would you like a copy of the curriculum for that class? Perhaps see where the work is supposed to lead during the eventual OWL, and what is supposed to be covered in each year?" Hermione and Fay were already nodding, Harry and Ron were saying "Yes please," and the rest of her yearmates just smiled.

"I will provide that, then. I have a question of my own. I kept an eye on the House Counters all day today. Nothing happened of note. So tell me: what happened?"

* * *

"I did not expect to be treated to a new closet," Fay said flatly as she put away the various clothes, gadgets, and priceless antique enchanted gear that had been dumped on each of them over the course of the day by Neville and Harry as they combed through their Vaults and went shopping a bit more judiciously through the main Alley and, as Professor McGonagal got a clearer idea of what they intended, down a few side Alleys as well. Hermione and Lavender shook their heads in agreement. 

"I had not expected that either, but I will tell you what: they were both acting like Landed Princes. Which I suppose they are," Parvati said thoughtfully. "As the senior members of this Alliance, they were equipping us all with the same level of gear."

She shook out the Valeting Sheet and folded her own clothes up into it before replacing them in her trunk. Hermione copied her carefully. 

"What astonishes me is this type of thing: that boys would be concerned with anti-rip charms, and stain-resistance, and fray-stoppage, and so forth to the point of acquiring something that will soak other clothes in the charms." 

The girls looked at each other solemnly. 

"That is what you get from someone who's had to cope with the problem theirselves without magic and without help," stated Fay. "I vote we hug the both of them a lot."

"Agreed," said Hermione and Lavender instantly, and Parvati chirped "Passed by acclamation!"

Laughing at themselves, they got into bed and put out the lights. 

* * *

The children had returned safely. The elder whom he had already examined had taken them all through the green fire, and left him in her office with the House-Elves' stand. He had explored for a while, then had crept under the door and explored the Hall outside a while, then returned to his stand and waited, snacking on the occasional mosquito. 

But they had all come back safely, smelling of ozone and potions and strangers and better health. Nnehbell had exclaimed at him, brought out a new branch and waved it sending colored sparks all over the chamber and causing the elder to exclaim in turn, and scooped !rribrr up onto its arm-strut while its friend picked up the stand.

The elder escorted the children back to their caverns, which was just as well. The ancient guardian with the feline companion stopped them for a harangue, which the elder halted. Apparently they were not supposed to be outside their caverns this late. !rribrr sounded, once, as they left the frustrated male behind, and the children made soft sounds of amusement. The elder looked at him for a moment and nodded. She sounded in approval, let them into their own caverns, and sealed them in.

!rribrr did not like being left behind. He decided to bring up matter with the pundit who acted like a crow.

At least they were back safely. 


	15. This man, that they used to call "Dunce"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The proof is complete,  
> If only I've stated it thrice.

_Dear Gran,_

_I am happy to hear that you have removed unwanted items from your inventory, although I join you in alarm at the number._

_Our Potions class was unexpectedly uneventful yesterday. Having introduced ourselves to the entire First Year of Slytherin House, we were then able to avoid all misunderstandings during the class._

_I was curious as to the introductory comments Professor Snape made to Harry, and wondered if you could offer some clarification. He said_

_Asphodel and Wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of the Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and will save you from most poisons. As for Monkshood and Wolfsbane, they are the same plant which also goes by the name of Aconite._

_Having attended to your stories about conversations via bouquets of flowers and herbs, I wondered whether a second layer of instruction was being offered. Please examine the list, and let me know what, if anything, is being conveyed._

_Our Outing that afternoon was all that could be wished and more. I took the liberty of selecting some ancient Longbottom jewels that would satisfy me to see you wear, especially in such formal settings as the Wizengamot and similar. Harry and I both found such jewels vastly intriguing and adorned the various members of our junior alliance as well._

_We may have gone slightly off the rails. If you could see your way clear to reassuring the Weasley parents as to our intentions, which are wholly honorable on both our parts (and entirely non-marital on my own), I would count it as a favor._

_Harry wishes me to make clear to you that his intentions are also non-marital. Please excuse the ink-blot._

_We are now under strict instruction to take advantage of the sunlight and leave our lessons for after dinner. Since these instructions have been issued by our Head of House we shall be following them forthwith._

_I will write again soon, and hope to hear about the House-Elves' game and its results._

_With loving respect,_

_Neville_

He sealed it as Hermione made much of Hedwig, scratching through the feathers along her jaw and feeding her bacon in small bits and alarming quantities. Harry took the letter from him and tied it to Hedwig's proffered leg, smoothing down her feathers and murmuring to her before she launched herself into the air among all the other owls, the protective amulet gleaming once on her breast.

"I," announced Ron from his place beside Harry, "am going to request a Study Carrel for us right after breakfast. We can use it to keep the Annals in."

Under the murmurs of approval, Neville asked, "I had got the impression you didn't care for studies that much? But you've suddenly turned all ..." he rotated his hand.

"My Mum doesn't hold with book-learning, at least at home," Ron said quietly. "She is more about telling us things that then we should be able to tell her back. I can't keep things in my memory like that. Books are fantastic: they stay put, and you can read a bit over and over again until you get it. We don't have many books at home except the Hogwarts textbooks, and she said we couldn't see those until we were ready for them. The library ..." he shook his head. 

Neville smiled at him.

"Yeah. You want me to come with you?"

"Sure!" Ron's eyes turned to Harry, who was in deep conversation with Hermione about  ... marbles?

"We'll catch up with you guys outside. Save us a piece of grass!"

Ron absently thumped two fingers on the silver dimensional store-and-shield cuff on his left wrist as he rose from the bench, and Neville checked the brassard on his own arm that served the same functions. 

They had all, every one except Parvati, had mental spell-damage from an unknown source at an unknown time. No more. Not while the efforts of the canny and paranoid ancestors of both his House and his brother's could protect them. 

He smiled at Ron, tucked Trevor into the front of his robes, and made a walking dash to the door.


End file.
